Dreams of War
by FireStallion
Summary: The sole survivor of a destroyed British settlement is Tavington's only hope of finding the culprits. Only one problem. She can't remember. What will the colonel do when the assignment takes on a whole new difficulty?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first Patriot story, so please be kind. This was just an idea that popped in my head and wouldn't stop bugging me until it was written down. Anyway, on to chapter one!**

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The timer rang for several seconds before finally being shut off with a hard smack. The smell of noodles and melted cheese permeated the air as its chef removed the dish from the oven and set it on the stove top to cool down.

"Jason, dinner's ready," she called up to her husband.

"I'll be down in just a minute, Sara," he replied, his voice echoing down the stairs.

Sara simply shook her head. It was the same old reply every night. He was never down in just a minute's time. Jason was busy fighting Russians on his Xbox. It was one of his many war games. Jason called it his hobby. Sara saw it as a waste of time.

Knowing she wouldn't see him for quite a while longer, Sara went about setting the table. She walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a couple serving plates. She then quickly maneuvered towards the first drawer, just right of the sink, and grabbed the utensils. Forks on the left, knives on the right…or was it the other way around?

Jason finally emerged from his alcove that was supposed to be his office. He came up behind her and planted a kiss on her cheek.

"Well, Mrs. Kingsly," he began, "if I may say so myself, dinner smells incredible. What are we having?"

Sara was startled for moment, but quickly regained her composure. She placed the knives and forks next to the plates and made her way over to the fridge. She picked up two sodas quickly, and went back to place them on the table.

"I already told you we are having chicken tetrazzini. But that must have slipped your mind, what with shooting Nazis or whoever," she replied sarcastically. She never paid any attentions to his games. They all seemed to be the same thing.

"You did? I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to forget. I wasn't supposed to help was I?" he asked innocently.

"If you were I would have already yelled at you," she replied rather coldly.

"Sara," he whined, wrapping his burly arms around her waist. "I'm sorry I forgot."

"You always forget," she added quickly.

"I'll tell you what. How about tomorrow I cook up a nice steak dinner. You can sit back, relax, and leave everything to me," he said placing several kisses on her neck.

"If I leave you to your own devices, you might burn the house down," she teased as she put her hands over his.

"Am I forgiven this time? Or do you plan to torture me," he asked playfully.

"I think I might have to torture you just a little, but it won't be too bad. You just won't get a kiss the rest of the night."

"That's what you call a little torture? That's terrible torture. I don't know how I'll ever be able to survive without just one little-"

"Oh save it," she interrupted with a light smack to his shoulder. "Your groveling will not change my mind."

Sara wiggled out of his grasp and went about serving the food. The baked pasta smelled even more divine once the spoon broke the golden brown crust.

"Now, sit down and eat before it gets cold."

Jason pouted with his baby blue eyes, probably hoping she was only teasing. When she gave no signs of budging he did as told. Sara had the urge to laugh every time he made that face. He looked so… she wasn't sure if cute was the right word, but it would have to do. It was hard to stay mad at him for a long time. He was too good at apologizing, and she knew he truly meant it whenever he did.

"How was work today? Did you help a lot of people? Save any lives," he asked, before taking in a mouthful of noodles.

"Honey, I'm a nurse that works triage. We don't normally get life threatening case at the front desk. The most severe thing we had was a boy with bronchitis that kept puking up snot every time he coughed. Not a pretty sight." She looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you ask?"

"Can't a husband take a healthy interest in his wife's work?"

She laughed. "The last time you asked how my day went was when you bought the flat screen TV. You remember the one that cost an arm and a leg. What's up?"

He was quiet for a moment fiddling nervously with his food before meeting her gaze. "I…uh…I enlisted in the reserves."

"What," she nearly exclaimed.

"Boot camp starts tomorrow," he finished.

"We talked about this," she started, placing her fork as gently as she could on the table. She had the sudden urge to stab him with it. "We both agreed that you weren't going to do this."

"It was now or never-"

"How could you do this behind my back," she yelled at him.

"My family has been in the military since my great great grandfather," he replied, "and it's about time I joined up too."

"But we already discussed this nonsense! Why are you trying to follow in their footsteps!"

"It's just the reserves, honey. Nothing bad is going to happen," he said as calmly as possible.

"You don't know that! You could be called and sent a thousand miles away! You could be shot…or killed! Is that what you want, Jason," she fumed.

"Sara, I am twenty two years old. I am an adult. I don't need your permission. My time was running out and if I hadn't done it now, then-"

"I know," she interrupted. "You were never going to do it. I can't believe you did this," she huffed and stood up tossing her napkin on the table.

"Sara," he beckoned, following her.

"No, don't bother. You've already made up your mind. You're right. You're an adult and can make your own decisions. Guess what? I'm an adult, too, and I'm going out for awhile." She grabbed her car keys and uttered a venomous, "Goodbye."

"Sara, don't you think you're overreacting?"

"Overreacting? How would you feel if I went behind your back after agreeing to something?"

"Can we please just sit down and talk about this?"

"We already talked about it, and it obviously meant nothing to you. Just leave me alone. I can't even look at you right now." Without another word, she whipped open her car door and put the keys in the ignition. Sara didn't know where she was going. Anywhere was better than home at the moment.

Sara tried to focus on the road, but it was difficult to concentrate through her frustration. She didn't object to him wanting to join the military, not when he first brought it up at least. It was his reason that she objected to. Jason only wanted to join because his family had done so in the past, a tradition. Trying to please his family was not a good enough reason. To be honest, she didn't know of any good causes to join the military, but she knew there were better reasons than this. There just had to be.

Suddenly her cell phone began to ring. She looked down. The screen read HOME. She instantly began debating whether or not she wanted to answer it.

With a heavy sigh, Sara reached down to pick up the phone. When she came up, returning her attention to road, all she saw was a pair of bright lights coming toward her.

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Smoke filled the air as the fires slowly died. The patrol continued through the remnants of the settlement for any survivors. But judging from the destruction and the bodies lying across the ground, it wasn't very likely they'd find anyone. Men, women, and children alike lay dead on the ground, most of bodies mutilated in some form or fashion similar to an Indian attack. Any normal man that came upon such a scene would not have had the stomach to even look at the site. A shame that this was nothing unfamiliar to these soldiers.

"Spread out, search the rubble. Report in ten minutes," the commanding officer ordered and left the men to do just that. Each one dismounted their steeds and began searching what was left of the homes.

"Sir, you don't think there is anyone who could have survived this, do you?" his second in command asked.

He gave a gruff reply. "No, Bordon, but we have our orders."

"Why would the Colonials, or Indians for that matter, do this? It is out of character for simple farmers to kill women and children, and no Indians have made any signs of going to war, sir," Bordon commented.

"I am well aware of this. Even it wasn't local farmers, the militia are not this low, but no one loyal to the King would fire an entire British settlement."

"Yes, but-"

"Bordon, did I give you permission to stand here conversing?" he interrupted curtly.

"No, sir."

"I didn't think so. Now do as you were instructed so we can leave."

"Yes, sir," he replied and dismounted to help the rest of the men.

His superior followed behind him and began to search the bodies for any signs of life. He tired easily of these assignments issued by Lord Cornwallis. The battle field was where he truly wanted to be, fighting for his country. The ten minutes were nearly over with no signs when Bordon called out.

"Colonel! Over here!"

Getting up from his spot near one of the bodies, the colonel walked over to see who or what had been found.

"What is-" he began to say, but stopped short.

A woman badly injured, but still alive, had been found amongst the dead. She appeared to have been shot and her side looked as though it was slashed, perhaps by a bayonet. He couldn't believe she was still alive. A great deal of blood covered the ground around her.

"Is there anyone else?" he asked as he bent down. He placed his hands upon her, applying pressure to the gash on her torso.

"I don't think so, sir. We've scoured the entire settlement. There is no one else."

"Very well. Bordon, you shall accompany me back to the fort. Everyone else, report back until further notice," he ordered.

The men rushed about, following their commanders instructions. Not before she could be moved, the woman let out a groan, her eyes opening. She muttered something unintelligible, but it wasn't hard to guess her confusion.

"I'm Colonel William Tavington, Green Dragoons. What is your name? What happened here?" he asked, not really expecting a decent answer but hopeful all the same.

"Sara," she answered weakly. "Sara Kingsly."

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**AN: So there's chapter one. R&R so I know whether or not I should continue with this story.**


	2. Chapter 2

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AN: Thanks to all those who reviewed! I didn't think I would get any kind of response to this story, but I'm glad people are enjoying it. On to chapter two!

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**Chapter 2**

With the woman safely delivered to Fort Carolina for treatment, Colonel Tavington reported back to Lord General Cornwallis.

"The town was burnt to the ground, sir. Only the woman survived," he reported keeping it as brief as possible. He was itching to get back out to do something more exciting than patrolling.

"Are there any leads as to who or why the village was attacked," Cornwallis asked as he looked through several other papers.

"No, my lord. There were no traces of the attackers, and the woman is in no state to recall the events."

"Then you shall have to wait until she is capable, won't you?"

"I beg your pardon, my lord?" Tavington said taken aback.

"I am leaving you in charge of this investigation, Colonel. Since this woman, as you said, is your only lead, you will have to wait until she is able to talk. Do you have a problem with this, Colonel?"

Tavington clenched a fist behind his back, knowing he was being taunted. "Of course not, my lord. But surely there are better uses for my men and I than-"

"Colonel," the general interrupted. "I need a capable body to handle this. An entire village is dead, and no one knows who did it or why. Spite? Revenge? Was it militia? Regulars? The list goes on. Am I making myself clear enough for you?"

The commander swallowed any harsh remarks he had thought of before nodding politely. "Perfectly transparent, my lord. I shall see to it immediately," he said before turning on his heel and walking out of the door. As soon as the door was shut, he heaved a sigh of frustration and thought several curses.

"Well, sir, what did General Cornwallis say?" Captain Bordon asked.

Fighting back the urge to speak what he truly thought, he answered, "For the time being, we are to remain here. Hopefully that woman will make a quick recovery. I don't feel like spending any more time here than-" He was interrupted by the sound of screaming and several people hurrying about upstairs.

"It would appear she has awakened," Bordon commented.

"I'm just grateful I don't have to be up there while she-" He was cut off again, this time by the sound of a gun being fired from the same direction as the screaming.

"What in heavens name?" Bordon exclaimed as the two rushed upstairs to see what the commotion was about.

The two soldiers made their way to the room where the woman had been left. When they arrived, several soldiers were running out of the room acting like a wild animal had been set loose and slammed the door shut. Several servants, including the doctor, were standing outside the door cowering in fear.

"What the devil is going on here? Why was there a gun shot?" Tavington demanded.

"I'm sorry, sir. She awoke and started screaming. Before any of us could get her calmed she grabbed our pistols and fired. She's mad, sir!" one of the subordinates reported.

"Dare I ask how she gained possession of your weaponry?" he asked, irritation clearly noted in his voice. If this is what happened against a frightened woman, what was he to expect in a real fight?

"It all happened so fast, sir. We didn't expect her to fire on us. She'll kill anyone in uniform who tries to go in there," the soldier said, pointing to the now closed door.

Tavington shook his head in frustration before removing his saber and pistol and handing them to Bordon. "Hold these, Captain," he said as he removed his uniform jacket and placed it in the captain's hands.

"Sir, you aren't actually going in there, are you?" Bordon asked as he watched his commander grab the door handle.

"Bordon, I would prefer this ending without someone shot," Tavington commented dryly before slowly entering the room. He put his head through first inspecting the room for her location. When he didn't see anyone he stepped in further and shut the door behind him. "Is anyone in here?" he called out.

"Stand where you are if you value your head on your neck," a terrified yet angry voice said from behind him. He stood still trying not to give her any reason to use her weapon. "Show me your hands and slowly turn," she ordered.

He raised his hands and turned around to face her. She was on the floor in the corner of the room, her face contorting in pain every so often. The doctor had obviously not been given enough time to finish treating her before her frenzy started. "Why have you attacked those men? They mean you no harm," he asked as calmly as he could muster.

"That's what the last red coat said before he started shooting everyone," she said painfully. The look in her brown eyes showed her distrust, anger and fear plainly.

"What are you talking about? Are you saying British soldiers attacked the village?" Tavington asked finding such news very disturbing.

"I don't know who they were," she cried rubbing her temple with one hand as she shut her eyes as if trying to block out the memory. "They were just there one minute, and the next they were killing everyone in sight. Anyone who resisted was shot. Even children." Tears began to flow freely as she recalled what happened.

"None of those men are here now. You are safe here. Is there anything else you can remember from the attack? Anything about the people who did this other than their uniforms?" he implored as he tried to take another step toward her.

She jerked up and aimed the pistol at his chest. "Don't take another step!" He stopped in his tracks preferring not to have a hole put through him.

"I don't intend to harm you. I want to help you. Tell me your name," he said, though he already knew it. This at least gave a better conversation than the previous subject.

"Sara," she said. "Sara Kingsley. Why do you want to know?" she demanded.

"I prefer to address people by their name, Miss Kingsley. Do you remember who I am?"

She closed her eyes, concentration furrowing her features. He took a cautious step forward as she answered, "I remember something about dragoons. A colonel of some sort."

"Yes. Colonel Tavington, Green Dragoons. We found you barely alive. You need to let a doctor look at you," he tried to reason with her.

"No!" she exclaimed. "I will not have any of those men near me! I don't trust them. They could be one of them."

"But you can trust me. You know I was not part of that," he said taking another step.

"How can I be sure of that?" she asked suspiciously.

"If I was, why would I go through the trouble of trying to save you? Think logically."

"I don't know," she wept. "I just don't know." She covered her face with her free hand, crying as she raised the pistol to her temple aiming the weapon harmlessly at the ceiling.

"It will be all right, Miss Kingsley. We will find who did this. In the mean time, you need help," he said soothingly as he knelt down several feet in front of her.

"No. You could be working with them," she said bringing herself back to her current situation. Her hand jerked as she brought the pistol back to face him. The pistol went off causing several yelps and screams from the people outside the door.

"Sir, are you all right?" he heard Bordon's worried voice ask.

"I'm fine. Just stay there," he ordered looking down at the hole in floor between his feet. He hid his fear well, but the last shot had come too close for his comfort.

Sara gasped in horror at what she had done and what nearly happened. "Oh Lord, help me. I've never killed a man before. I almost…you were nearly…" she stammered for the words that she obviously didn't want to say.

"Just relax, Miss Kingsley. Everything is all right. No one was hurt," he said inching forward.

"They're dead," she breathed as a new wave of tears came. "They're all dead."

Tavington eased himself closer until he was beside her and gently grabbed the pistol that was still in her vice like grip. "We can help you, but you must let us. Let it go," he urged.

Her distraught brown eyes met his calm icy blue, searching desperately for some ounce of truth to his words. Hesitantly, she released the weapon to him before gripping his shirt and collapsing to his chest, her tears now soaking his white shirt. He patted her back awkwardly in an attempt to soothe her sobbing. This was why he didn't like to deal with trauma victims. They were so fragile that it was nearly impossible to get the necessary information from them.

After another moment of this, Tavington called for the doctor and Bordon to enter. With their aid, he got the terrified woman back to her bed to let the doctor finish his treatment and left to the parlor.

"You handled that rather well, sir. How did you know she wouldn't shoot you when you tried to enter?" Bordon asked rather astounded by the commander's performance.

"I didn't. Bordon, it would appear she had reason for attacking those men," he explained.

"Sir?"

"Whoever burned that village was dressed in British uniform. It must have been a large group to take the town. There was an entire regiment stationed there, and now nothing. Whoever did this has large numbers and a deadly advantage. They could walk in here, disguised, and we would never know it," Tavington explained.

"Are you suggesting the militia is behind it?" Bordon queried.

"If it were militia, they would have to be very skilled to pass off as proper English soldiers. Besides, the Colonials have never resorted to the murder of women and children. No, I think we're dealing with a group of rogues who more than likely believe they are helping their cause. Either way, it does not matter. They are a threat and must be dealt with soon."

"But sir, we don't even know where to begin searching for them. As far as we can tell, the attack was random. There were no large stores of weapons or supplies there or any other motive than the soldiers stationed there. That is not enough to predict their movements," Bordon pointed out.

"I am aware, Captain. We can't send patrols to every settlement. It's illogical. There would be no way to tell the difference between their men and ours," he mused.

"Well, then what can we do, sir?"

"The only thing we can do, Captain. We wait for their next move."

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**AN: Hoped you all enjoyed that one. R&R please. I don't know what you're thinking unless you tell me.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The next day, Colonel Tavington went back to the settlement to investigate further as per General Cornwallis's orders. There was nothing else to be learned from the sight, but there was no use arguing with the man. The general was just as stubborn as he when he set his mind to something, particularly making the colonel miserable with such trivial investigations as this.

It was obvious that whoever was behind it had thought it out thoroughly. Ride up in disguise as fellow soldiers before shooting the inhabitants and burning the settlement all the while making it look like an Indian raid. The only thing they hadn't planned on was a survivor.

With nothing more to be learned from the area Tavington headed back to the fort to report his findings and to check on their guest.

As he rode in and handed off his horse to a stable hand, he found the doctor out on the veranda looking very frustrated and confused.

"Is there a problem, doctor?" he asked as he headed for the door.

"Yes, Colonel, there is indeed a problem! That woman you brought here has been nothing but trouble!" he exclaimed exasperated.

"Calm down, doctor. Now, what has happened?" he asked trying to calm the man.

"She's run off again is what has happened! This must be the fifth or sixth time she's done this today, and it is becoming more of a hassle than she's worth! I am not going on another wild goose chase for this woman, so if she is that important to your investigation, then you find her," he said jabbing a finger in the colonel's face before storming off.

He stood there for a moment in slight shock before heaving a sigh of frustration.

"Something wrong, Colonel?" Bordon asked as he walked by.

"Bordon, please take these to my room. I have business to attend to," he said handing off his helmet, saber and pistol.

"Sir?" he asked confused.

"Not now, Bordon. Just do what I asked," he huffed and stomped off to find the woman. He had no clue where to start, but he assumed that the grounds was a good starting point.

After searching the perimeter he went back to the courtyard where he found her sitting on the ground beneath a tree. Composing himself he walked over to her.

"I hear you have been causing a great deal of trouble for our good doctor," he said as he approached her.

She jumped, apparently startled by his sudden presence. "Is that so?" she replied, composing herself.

"May I ask why you've been running away?" he asked trying to stay as cordial as possible.

"I can't stand them. They all look like…" she trailed off as she began to fight back a whimper.

He understood what she meant. She was still terrified from the attack. "I'm sure that what you have been through was painful at best, but running away from those who are trying to help you will only make this more difficult," he tried to reason.

"What would you know of what I've been through? You didn't watch people die like that," she said through gritted teeth as she rubbed her temple.

"Death is not something unfamiliar to a soldier. I see it everyday."

"Were they people you cared about? Family? Friends? They're probably all dead," she breathed trying to keep from breaking down.

"Surely there is someone somewhere that you can go to," he reasoned.

"I don't…I don't know. I can't…I can't remember," she whimpered as she curled her fingers through her dark auburn hair in frustration.

"It is only temporary. In another day or so your memory will return. For now, you need to be in bed resting. It is not good for you to be running about fort."

"You don't understand. I know they are outside my room. I can hear them. I see them outside, in the halls, everywhere. Nowhere feels safe. I want to go home," she nearly wept.

Now Tavington was at a loss. This was not what he joined the military for. He was not there to babysit terrified women, but, unfortunately, he had no choice in the matter. The only problem was that they were in a fort that was used as a headquarters for officers and soldiers. It was not as if he had the luxury of ordering the men not to wear their uniforms. With the current threat of imposters, this would only make it easier for someone to infiltrate the fort. Short of sending her out into the surrounding wilderness, there were not many options available.

"I will do what I can to make sure the men stay as far away from you as possible, but you must understand that this is a military base. Soldiers must come in and out everyday. There is no changing that, but I will do what I can, if you promise to stop running away from the doctor," he compromised.

She turned away from him as if in contemplation. He hoped he would not have to try to convince her any further, because he wasn't sure if he would be able to hold his temper. He had been running thin since the assignment of the investigation, and it hadn't improved.

"Very well," she answered. "I promise I will do my best."

"Very good, Madame. Come now. Let's get you back to bed," he said and offered her a hand up. It was difficult with her leg injury, but with aid of Tavington's shoulder to lean against, they made it back upstairs and laid her back in bed.

With one more crises averted, Tavington headed for his own room wanting nothing more than to lay in his own bed, but then he remembered he still had to report to General Cornwallis, even though there were much better things he could think of to do. There really was not anything new to report, but he knew that if he didn't, the general would call him down and make his life more miserable, if that was even possible.

Grabbing his saber that Bordon had been kind enough to place in his room, Tavington completed his uniform and went back downstairs to the general.

"Reporting as ordered, Lord Cornwallis," he said as he entered the room.

"Yes, Colonel. What is it?" Cornwallis asked uninterested.

"Nothing new, sir. Whoever these imposters are, they know how to cover their tracks," he reported.

"What of the woman? Have you taken care of that problem?"

"I would hardly call her a problem. She is scared, yes, but she will get over it," he said, defending her.

"For your sake, Colonel, let us hope that you are right. I do not appreciate hearing every ten minutes that she has run off again and can not be found."

"I assure you, sir, I have addressed the issue and will be taking action as soon as possible."

"Very good. Go now, and make sure that woman stops causing problems around this fort," the general ordered and Tavington gladly left.

He headed back upstairs to his room ordering that his dinner be served there. Normally the presence of company was acceptable for him, but he was in a poor mood and would simply make it a foul evening for others.

With barely even a few minutes of relaxation in his own room, a knock came at the colonel's door. "Who is it?" he huffed tiredly.

"It's Doctor Sampson. Colonel, it is important that I speak with you," said the voice behind the door.

"Come in then," he replied sitting down in the nearest chair. "What is it doctor? If you have come to tell me she has run off again, I am not looking for her."

"No, Colonel, and I would like to apologize for my behavior. I should not have flown into such a temper. It's just been a long day," he apologized.

"I understand what you mean, but surely you did not come here just for that."

"No, there was more. From what little time I have been able to spend with Miss Kingsley, it is possible she has some memory loss. You and I both know that such a thing is common for people who have experienced what she has, but I fear some of it may be permanent," the doctor explained.

"What makes you say that? It has only been a day. With more time, her memory should return."

"Normally I would agree with you, Colonel, but she has experienced memory loss from before the attack. She has no recollection of her family members, any friends she may have had. In the few cases I have dealt with, the patient will block out the memory as a way to cope with it, but earlier memories are still fairly intact. I don't know how permanent it may be, but I thought you should be aware that she may never gain back all of her memories, particularly the ones of the attack that would be most useful to you."

Tavington averted his gaze from the doctor contemplating what he could do next in the event that it was permanent. "Thank you, doctor. If that is all, I must ask you to leave. I am very worn."

"Of course. I'm sorry to have bothered your evening," the doctor replied and hurried out of the room.

Tavington could not think of anything that could be done if her memories did not return. She was his only lead as to what had happened, and now it seemed that she might be completely useless. He hoped that would not be the case, but if it was, he was going to be in some deep trouble.

Deciding to worry about it at a later time, he finished his meal and sent out an order that no one, except for the doctor, was to go near their new tenant. With little more to be done, he let his hair down from its braid and undressed himself before slipping into his bed for a good night's rest.

* * *

The next several weeks were spent trying to jog Miss Kingsley's memory. Nothing seemed to work, though. Only bits and pieces would resurface, none of them helpful either. Cornwallis was also beginning to pressure the colonel with the constant attacks of the militia and the "Ghost" leader.

Every day seemed to be a trial for him what with the general and other war issues that were going on. Sometimes just trying to deal with Miss Kingsley seemed almost relaxing. Almost. Whenever he was not trying to get information from her, she made for a good conversationalist. Though, she did have a bad habit of pointing out certain parts of his personality, particularly his temper and, as the general had said, his brutality.

She never seemed to tire of lecturing him on the subject which only made him more irritable at times, but the fact that she didn't seem afraid to point it out as boldly and as often as she did only made her more intriguing to him. Most women would not even dare tread on it, but she seemed almost compelled to tell him as if it was her prerogative to change him. If he was in the mood to deal with it, he would smile to himself at her attempts. It was almost amusing to watch at times.

During the time that had passed he had almost grown fond of her. He tried to reason that it was because she was one of the few non-military personnel in the fort, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it wasn't true. There was something about her that made him want to be around her. He didn't know if it was just for her looks or for what he saw whenever he looked in her eyes. Such intelligence, such honesty, such confidence, and yet there was some degree of sadness, of loneliness. He could understand that. The loss of her livelihood took a great toll on her.

It had been nearly one month since the attack, and with no information yet from her, he went to confront her directly, but he was stopped by the doctor.

"Colonel, if you push her before she is ready, there could be long term side effects on her. Not to mention that she may crack under the pressure and not remember a thing at all," he lectured.

"Doctor, I'm not sure if you are aware of this, but there is a war going on, of which I am supposed to be apart of. I can not simply wait around for her to finally come to terms with this. I need the information now," Tavington pressed.

"I understand your dilemma perfectly, Colonel, but-"

"Apparently, you do not. To the best of our information, another attack similar to what happened to her home could be happening right now as we argue. How many more must die for the sake of her emotional stability? Ten? Twenty? One hundred? Tell me, Doctor. I really must know," he growled.

"You think I do not know what is at stake?" the doctor huffed. "My wife was in their last attack, Colonel, so do not think to lecture me on the importance of her memory. I want to capture these bastards as much as you do, but not at the cost ruining what little life she has left!"

Tavington was taken aback. He had not realized that the doctor had personally known the woman. "You knew her well? Before the attack?"

"No, sir. I knew her name, but that was as far as it went."

"I see," he conceded. "Very well, Doctor, I will not press the matter, for the time being, but do realize that I can not wait forever for her to remember."

"I understand. I will do whatever I can to help her along, sir."

After that, he gave up trying to press her. He did care somewhat for her well being, but that did not mean he had much patience for it, and neither did the General, which was part of the discussion the General decided to have one day.

"Colonel, are you ever going to finish your investigation or not?" the general demanded.

"Sir, I have done all I can. There is nothing more that can be done until her memory returns," he reported as graciously as he could muster.

"Then why have you not gotten the information from her? How hard is it for you to simply question her and get the necessary information?"

"Sir, it is not that simple. I have already tried, but if she pushed before she is ready, she will not be able to tell us anything," he explained.

"Colonel, I do not have time to wait around for you. I have been invited to a ball at Middleton Place along with all the officers. You have until we leave to decide what must be done. You are dismissed," he said and let the colonel leave.

Tavington was not sure what could be done. The doctor had already forbid him from pressing the subject, and he could not just leave her there by herself. Though she had composed herself enough to walk around the fort without running away in fright, she was still uncomfortable about being alone with them for too long.

He had no choice but to speak to her about it. "Miss Kingsley," he greeted as he approached her.

"Good afternoon, Colonel. What can I do for you today?" she asked sweetly.

"We leave today for Middleton Place. You will be joining us," he informed her.

"What? Why? I don't understand."

"I can not leave you here alone, and I have Lord Cornwallis breathing down my neck. If I am to be able to get anything done, you must come along," he explained.

"I gathered as much, Colonel, but why are we leaving the fort? Is something wrong?" she questioned again.

"The general and his officers have been invited to attend a ball. It should be exciting enough for you."

"A ball? As in dressing up like a peacock and strutting about like one?" she asked half nervously.

He smirked at her description before answering, "Yes, you will be required to dress up, but I do not know how much strutting you will be doing. You do not strike me as the type."

"You know what I mean, Colonel. All of those ladies, if you can call them such, dress up and gossip about each other, pretending to like each other when really all they want to do is stab one another in the back. No, thank you. I would rather not be a part of that."

"Well then I suppose you will just have to remain here by yourself with the soldiers until I return," he taunted.

She took on a look of worry as he said this. "But I thought you said you needed to have me along to get any work done," she questioned.

"As an officer I am required to go along. The general will be most upset with me if you did not come along, but that is a risk I may have to take," he sighed.

"You hate it when the general lectures you. Why would you bother to go through it just for me?"

"You obviously do not want to go, and I can not force you to go. What other option do I have?" he baited her.

"I did not say I did not want to go."

"I do remember rather clearly that you said you did not want to have any part of it," he pointed out, knowing he had caught her.

"I merely said I did not want to have any part in the gossiping. If it will be of help to you that I go along, then I shall go. Though, I don't have anything fit for a ball," she conceded.

"I'm sure something can be found for you. Come now. We must hurry if we are to be there before too late," he said and went off to prepare himself.

* * *

**AN: Yay for updates! I know this took a long time, and I don't know when the next one will be, so bear with me. And for those of you who have, thanks. You're awesome!**

**Hopefully some of you actually read these notes, because if you don't, you will miss out on a very important announcement. I am going on hiatus until January, so don't keep coming here expecting updates or sending me messages to update. I would like to graduate so I can keep doing this, and I'm sure you guys want to know the end of the story, so, when I come back, there will, prospectively, be several updates for those of you who are willing to wait out the time. For those of you who have stuck with it, yay for you!! You rock!!! For those that aren't/didn't...well, sucks for you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After a long, hard drive from Fort Carolina to Middleton Place, Tavington was ready for a long rest before the next evening's ball. He was not particularly fond of such events, but it was a requirement and he did not want to give the general anymore reason to hassle him than he already did.

After making sure all the officers were where they were supposed to be and reporting to General Cornwallis for what seemed like the hundredth time, Tavington went out to tackle his most challenging and dangerous mission yet: finding a dress for Miss Kingsley.

He had never needed to do anything of that nature before, and he was certainly not looking forward to it. He asked some of the men that he knew were married for advice. They were not as helpful as he would have hoped. With little luck or hope of figuring out what to do, he finally requested that one of the women take her to find a suitable gown.

With little time to do much else in the day, he retired to his room for the evening. He went through a few letters before settling in for the night, hoping that tomorrow would go smoothly. Somehow, somewhere in his gut, he knew that such things were merely wishful thinking.

* * *

The next day was spent preparing for the ball. Servant mulled about doing whatever was asked while Tavington spent his time learning the whereabouts of the general's personal belongings. It was little surprise when he learned the caravan had been captured by the militia and their conniving leader known only as "the Ghost." Personally, he was tiring of the militia's antics and the general' complaining of not having any "proper" dress wear.

By the time evening came, the colonel was half tempted to skip the ball, the general all but forced him to go, and Miss Kingsley had finally expressed some minor interest, so now he had little choice on the matter. He dressed himself in his formal wear and adjusted his braid pulling back any stray hairs before meeting Cornwallis in his quarters.

An orderly came up with a replacement jacket since the militia held it in their custody. The General was, of course, displeased with it, calling it a horse blanket and berating Tavington for letting his wardrobe be stolen in the first place. It was futile to argue with him, so when Cornwallis ended the discussion, Tavington did so quickly and followed him out on to the lawn where guests had begun to congregate. Getting away from the general quickly, Tavington went to find Bordon hoping he could provide some civilized, non war related conversation.

Nearly half an hour later he realized that Miss Kingsley had not emerged. He had heard several yells from her room earlier. It sounded like she was saying to keep the feathers out, but he was not completely sure since some of it was indiscernible.

"Bordon, have you seen Miss Kingsley yet?" he questioned, making sure he had not simply missed her among the crowd.

"No, sir. She hasn't come out yet," he responded. "I heard her yell something about not wearing a corset so tight. I'm not sure if he'll ever come with all her protests," he commented.

"Yes, well, if she is not outside in five minutes, I will just have bring her out my-" He was cut off by Bordon's wide eyed stare and pointing back towards the house. He turned around and was stunned speechless.

Sara walked out of the house dressed in a forest green gown, gold trimming the edges, white gloves that reached up to her elbows. Her hair had been half pulled up in an elegant bun while the rest hung down in elegant curls that cascaded down her back.

"Sir, if I may say, I have never seen a woman like that in many years," Bordon praised.

Tavington looked around to see that they were not the only ones taken aback by her beauty. Even some of the women had started whispering about her.

"I believe everyone else would agree with you, Bordon," he said and walked over to the very nervous looking woman. He greeted her formally, taking her hand and kissing it like a proper gentleman. "You look lovely, Miss Kingsley."

She responded with a curtsey saying, "Thank you, Colonel Tavington."

"Come join us for a glass of champagne?" he offered.

"Please," she pleaded softly, obviously wanting nothing more than to run away.

He offered her his arm which she took and followed him back to where Bordon was still trying to drag his jaw from the ground.

"I thought you were never going to come out of your room," he whispered.

"You didn't see what they were trying to do to me," she whispered back. "They were trying to put feathers in my hair like the rest of these bubble brained twits."

Tavington held back a smirk at her descriptions for there were very few women he could think of that did not fit it.

"Yes, well, it's a good thing you didn't. Besides looking like the rest of these peacocks, not as many heads would have turned when you walked out this evening."

She blushed at the compliment. "I wish I had, if I knew I could have avoided this," she said, glancing around at those who were still staring.

"Most of them only wish they could look like you in a dress," he teased trying to ease the tension.

She giggled before saying, "My dear sir, are you suggesting that you wish you looked so fine in women's clothes?"

"No, not I, but perhaps Bordon. I'm not sure I have ever seen him look at a woman with such awe in many years."

"I'm sorry, but Bordon has never come across to me as the type to cross dress in private or in public."

"One never knows what a man really thinks or desires."

"You had better hope Bordon did not hear you say that, because he's coming closer," she warned as they came within earshot.

"Bordon would never do anything drastic, would you, Bordon?" Tavington said, addressing his friend.

"Sir?" Bordon questioned.

Sara began giggling while Tavington simply smirked. Bordon stared on confusedly feeling left out of their inside joke.

"Is there something I should be made aware of, sir?" Bordon asked.

"Nothing at all, Bordon. Nothing at all," Tavington said and gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Everyone stood around for some time conversing with old friends, sharing war news or complaining about something that was going wrong. Tavington was getting sick of the tragic tale of how the general's dogs were captured and no doubt killed by the militia. When he could, he would stay as far away as possible and converse with Miss Kingsley. She was especially shy with the crowd of people, but she managed to hold a decent conversation with him on just about any subject.

When they were left alone, it was easy to tell she was ready for a break. After bringing her another glass of champagne, Tavington sat down beside her on a bench beneath one of the large trees that dotted the lawn.

"How are you holding up?" he asked as he handed her the glass.

"I can manage," she replied. "I've noticed you have been avoiding General Cornwallis," she commented.

"I see him nearly every day. I do enjoy spending some time away from him," he said, taking a drink.

"If you did not let him walk over you so often, it would not be so bad," she said.

He turned to her looking almost insulted by the comment. "I do not let others walk over me."

"Yes, you do," she said before he could properly defend himself. "I have heard several of your conversations in passing. He speaks down to you whether or not you are in the right, and you let him do it without a word. And do not try to tell me it is because of rank. Every leader must take in the consideration of his officers if he is to be a good one."

He thought over her words wishing there was not a grain of truth to them, but it was futile. "What would you have me do? He is my superior, and there is only so far I can go without being severely reprimanded," he pointed out.

"There is still more you could do than what you have done."

"You are a woman. You cannot be expected to understand what it is like to be in my position. It is much more complicated than you seem to realize."

"Don't try to lecture me on the complications of military protocol," she snapped. "In case you may have forgotten, I lived in a military controlled settlement. I know full well how far is too far. From what I've seen, you've barely scratched the surface," she retorted.

"You have no idea how far I have gone."

"Well, then enlighten me, Colonel," she spat. She rarely ever called him by just his rank. He had learned early on that it was a sign she was angry, not that her tone was not signal enough.

"For your information, I-" He was cut off by the sound of an explosion in the harbor. They both jumped up to see the supply ship that had been carrying ammunitions, and more of the general's clothes, was in flames. In the distance, a faint, "Oh fireworks," could be heard from one of the women.

"Well then," he said and downed what was left of his champagne. "Would you care to dance?" he asked, offering a hand.

"The ship just exploded. Shouldn't you be investigating?" she responded, a bit astounded.

"I figure the general is going to talk my ears off with his complaints soon enough. Why not enjoy what little is left of the evening?"

She gave a small laugh as she shook her head at him. "By all means then. Let's dance," she said and took his hand. "I must warn you, though. I have not danced in many years."

"I have a feeling you'll pick it up well enough. Besides, you would not be the first woman to tread on my toes," he said with a cordial smile.

She smiled back as he led her down to the dance floor where several couples had not been deterred by the commotion down in the harbor. Tavington pulled her in to a proper dance form and began the waltz. Two steps in she had already stepped on him.

"I am sorry. I told you I am not very good at this," she apologized.

"It's quite alright. You did give me fair warning. You are doing fine. Just relax," he said as he could feel her body tense.

"Perhaps this was not such a good idea. Everyone is staring at us. I feel like such a fool."

"They are not staring at us. Trust me, I have seen far worse. Pay them no mind. Right now, they do not matter," he said.

"But-"

"They do not matter," he reaffirmed.

"If you insist," she said and tried to stare at something other than her feet or the people around her. She finally settled on his eyes as he did the same. In that moment, he seemed to forget where he was, what he was doing, or the people he was with. It felt so natural, so peaceful doing the simplest thing as dancing.

He hardly noticed the song was coming to a close when Bordon came up and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I might I steal the lady for the next dance?" he asked.

"If the lady would like to," he said, half hoping that she would not agree to it.

"I would be delighted, Bordon," she replied.

As Bordon took her hand and was about to begin the next dance he whispered, "Cornwallis wants a word with you. Now."

Tavington nodded in response and gave a polite smile so as not to worry Miss Kingsley before heading off to see the enraged general who was standing at the door.

"Colonel, how could you let something like this happen?" he demanded.

"Do not blame me, sir. I was not on the boat to stop whoever did this."

"I put you in charge of making sure all of our supplies got to shore, and now I'm getting reports that a fair portion of the ammunition aboard was taken before the ship was destroyed. Do you have any kind of explanation for this?"

"I would suggest speaking with the soldiers who had been aboard the vessel, if any are still alive. They will know more than I, sir. If you will excuse me, there are guests here that demand my attention," he said and began to walk away.

"I would hardly call Miss Kingsley a guest demanding your attention," the general said.

Tavington turned waiting to hear the rest of the comment. "Please do elaborate, sir."

"Do not take me for a fool. I have seen the way you look at her, how you defend and protect her. Your affections for her are no secret."

"You misinterpret my intentions. You want information regarding the attack on her settlement. The only way I can give it to you is by gaining her trust."

"I do believe you have gained far more than her trust," Cornwallis taunted.

"Sir?"

"You seem to be the only one oblivious to the obvious. Have you not seen the way she stares at you?"

"She is scared and in need of a friend. It is nothing more than that. You, sir, are imagining something that does not exist."

"As you wish, Colonel, but do try to remember why she is here. She serves one purpose and one only. Try not to forget," Cornwallis said and walked off to the dance floor leaving Tavington fuming, his fists clenched to his sides.

Was it possibly that Miss Kingsley had other affections for him besides friendship? No, surely it could not. And how dare the general infer that he had any kind of interest in her. Granted he enjoyed her Miss Kingsley's company, but there was no such attraction between them. Of this he was positive.

He looked off to see Cornwallis stealing Sara for the remainder of the dance. Anger welled within him, because he was sure the general would only try to get information from her. He was unsure how, but he knew that was all Cornwallis was interested in.

He watched them for some time as they danced, their lips moving with their conversation. He saw a look of shock fall over Sara's features for an instant before a look of feign sincerity. He did not like the looks of where this was going. Making his way quickly to them, he arrived just moments too late. Sara halted before grinding Cornwallis's foot into the ground.

Not sure whether he should laugh or be appalled by her actions he went after Sara who was making a speedy exit.

"Sara," he called. She turned, a look of frustration on her face. "What happened?" he questioned.

"I'm sorry, but the things he said warranted what I did," she fumed.

"What do you mean? What did he say?"

"It does not matter. What's done is done. And I do not regret it. Let him do as he pleases," she said and continued off.

"Wait," he said, grabbing her hand. "Humor me for a moment. What did he say?"

"It was lies, trying to get a reaction I suppose. It was ridiculous. As if you would have feelings for me," she huffed.

"What?" he said surprised. What was Cornwallis trying to accomplish?

"That's what he said. I lost my temper and reacted. I am sorry, but it would be better if I left."

"Do not give him that satisfaction," he said, forcing her to look at him. "This is what he wants. We will go back together-"

"No," she cut in. "That will look just as…" She trailed off, her focus on something behind him. Her face went pale, her body becoming rigid as her hands began to quiver.

"What is it?" he asked, turning to see what she was looking at. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, so why did she look like she had seen a ghost? "Sara, what is wrong? What did you see?" he implored.

"I have to go," she whimpered and ran back into the house.

"Sara," he called after her, but she was long gone. He thought of chasing after her but was unsure if that was the vest idea at the time, what with the Cornwallis.

"Sir, is everything all right?" Bordon asked, obviously having seen what happened.

"I am not sure, Bordon. Something spooked her besides the general, and I do not like it. Something does not feel right."

"What happens now?"

"Now, we go back and act normal. And Bordon, stay away from Cornwallis if at all possible," he warned.

"Sir?" Bordon questioned.

"He's up to something. I do not know yet, but I am going to figure it out."

The evening rolled by slowly until it became too dark for the guests to stay any longer. As everyone else headed home, the regiment stayed behind preferring to travel at first light. With the other officers off to their beds and the general still seething in his room, Tavington took the opportunity to check in on Sara.

Approaching her door, he gave a soft knock so as not to disturb anyone else down the hall. When no answer came, he knocked louder. "Sara," he called softly. Pressing his ear to the door, he listened as soft whimpers could be heard from the other side. He opened the door quietly and stepped inside.

He found her on the floor next to the bed curled up, still in her dress. "Sara, what's wrong? What happened?" he asked softly.

"What?" she said, startled by his voice. She quickly got up from her position to fully address him. "I'm sorry. I did not hear you knock. I was um…" she trailed off, trying to think of an excuse.

"What happened?" he repeated. "You look like you were staring at a ghost."

She let out a sigh and sat down on the bed. "You will not believe me, but…I swear I saw…him. I tried to make sure, but he was gone."

"What are you talking about? Who did you see?"

"I do not know who he is, but I know I have seen him, seen that cruel look before."

"Calm down, Sara," he said, taking a seat beside her. "Where did you see him?"

"I do not know if it was just my imagination, but I saw him before in the settlement. I could never forget that face. He was their leader. He ordered the attack."

"What?" Tavington gasped, bolting from his spot. "Are you sure?"

"I told you. I do not know for certain. I only caught a glimpse, but his eyes, his eyes I could not forget. That look of satisfaction when he took the first shot. I swear I thought I saw him tonight."

"You should have told me then. Do you know what this could mean?"

"I do not even know if he was truly there or not."

"Sara, if he is here, it could mean he is planning an attack on the fort. We could all be in danger right now. Do you realize what you could have done?" he said sternly.

She turned away. "And when it turns out to be nothing but a figment of my imagination, where does that leave you? I was not about to let you look like a fool for my fears. I know how much your reputation means to you."

His hands balled in to fists, unsure how he wanted to respond. He was angry she had said nothing sooner, but at the same time semi-relieved that she had taken him into consideration.

"Sara," he said, hoping more words would simply come, but they never did.

"You should probably go," she said to break the silence. "I know you have to report what I just told you, and General Cornwallis has more than likely already started a rumor about us. The longer you stay, the stronger their suspicions will become."

"You are probably right," he agreed. "You should be in bed. We have a long ride tomorrow."

"Yes. I'll see you in the morning."

With nothing left but an uncomfortable silence, Tavington exited the room quietly and went back to his room preferring not to be around the general for even a moment more that night.

* * *

**AN: I am so sorry it took so long to get this up. School is an evil thing that will soon die. Hope you enjoyed the chapter. As always, leave a review or I will assume that you just love this story and won't know if it needs fixing. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Several days passed with little conversation between Tavington and Sara. Ever since that night at Middleton Place, a tension had been created between the two. Not that he saw very much of her as it was. He had been planning a trap to finally catch and dispose of the pesky militia. Eighteen of the rebels were now sitting in a holding cell awaiting execution at the noose while at least twenty had been killed or wounded. There had been losses on Tavington's side as well, but he had considered them to be acceptable losses.

That evening he returned from a briefing with the dragoons to find a most unwelcome sight. Those eighteen captured men were walking out the gate. Quickly dismounting and throwing his helmet to the first man he saw, he approached General O'Hara, Cornwallis's kiss up of a right hand.

"What is going on here?"

"Prisoner exchange," O'Hara answered. "He has eighteen of our officers."

"Who is he? I recognize him," he asked, referring to the man who appeared to be the leader.

"The commander of the militia," O'Hara answered, "your Ghost."

Rage welled up inside him. The man he had been hunting whose men had caused him so much grief was simply walking away. Tavington could not stand for this. He withdrew his saber and stalked after the Ghost.

"Stay your sword, Colonel," O'Hara ordered. "He rode in under a white flag for formal parlay."

"This is madness."

"If you harm him, you condemn our officers."

"With all due respect, sir," he said through gritted teeth as he turned back, "he's killed just as many in the past two months."

"He has shown no aggression here. Hence, he cannot be touched."

"Has he not?" Tavington turned back. "You!" he called. "So you're the Ghost are you? I remember you. That farm with that stupid little boy."

The leader turned, grief and hate filled eyes boring into Tavington.

"Did he die?" Tavington challenged. "Hm?"

The man walked forward purposefullyas Tavington hoped he would.

"You know, it's an ugly business doing one's duty, but just occassionaly it's a real pleasure."

Tavington could see the rage build up in the man's eyes. _Just a bit more,_ he thought.

"Before this war is over, I am going to kill you," the man said with a rugged voice.

"Why wait?" Tavington said, offering his saber.

"Soon," the man said and stormed off. Tavington saw the hesitation, knew how much that man had wanted to kill him. The gate closed as two Great Danes, obviously the general's dogs, ran out with him.

"Tavington," O'Hara said, "take a group up the ridge and go retrieve the officers."

After recieveing a more accurate location, Tavington did as told. When he arrived, an even worse sight than before greeted him. Everyone of the prisoners were scarecrows.

"cut them down and take their uniforms. Leave one intact as a gift for the general," he ordered.

He approached one of the strawmen, facing down the figure that seemed to be mocking him. He removed his sword and decapitated the creature. He only wished the damn Ghost could have been in the uniform.

"My reputation suffers because of your incompetence. That man," the general exclaimed, "insults me!"

"Quite impressive for a farmer with pitch forks, wouldn't you say?" Tavington taunted, throwing the general's own description back in his face.

Cornwallis motioned for him to step forward. "I want you to find that man. I want you to capture him."

"The man has the loyalty of the people," he explained, "They protect him, protect his family, protect the families of his men. I can capture him for you, but to do so requires the use of tactics that are somewhat…what was the your lordship used? Brutal, I think."

Cornwallis motioned for his orderly to leave. "Go on."

"I am prepared to do what is necessary. I alone will assime the full mantle of responsibility for my actions, free of the chain of command," he said, pouring himself a drink from the general's wine, "rendering you blameless. However, if I do this, you and I both know I can never return to England with honor."

Cornwallis turned as if sensing there was something he wasn't saying. "What, I wonder, is to become of me?"

"When this war is over here the colonies," Cornwallis said as he walked over to one of his maps on the table, "the new aristocracy will be land owners."

Tavington gave a glance over the map, but he already knew what bit of land he wanted. "Tell me about Ohio," he said. Tavington watched Cornwallis grimace at the thought of losing his gift from the king. Tavington enjoyed the antagonizing moment as Cornwallis showed him the plot and the deed to it.

"This," he said, "will be yours, if you can find this ghost and bring him in."

"Of course, my lord. Good evening to you. I must be on my way," Tavington said and walked towards the door.

"Tavington," Cornwallis beckoned.

"Sir?" he replied, turning.

"There is one more item that needs to be addressed. This business with Miss Kingsley-"

"Say no more my lord," he interrupted. "It shall be rectified before my departure."

"Very good. You may leave now," he dismissed.

Tavington left the room, a smug smirk playing across his face. Finally there would be action against the damn Ghost, but not until his investigation with Sara was finally brought to an end. For weeks she ahd been there and still she had said nothing helpful. He understood trauma, but this was going on for too long.

He went to her door, giving a loud knock. When he heard her say to enter he did so and shut the door behind him.

"Colonel Tavington?" What is it?" she asked.

"I have been patient with you since you came here. I never pushed, poked or prodded, but this has gone on long enough," he said in a low tone.

"I don't understand," she said fearfully. "What are you talking about?"

"For weeks you have been here with no progress. You have overstayed your welcome, Miss Kingsley," he said. "It is time for you to either divulge what you know or be on your way."

"I have already told. I don't remember the attack," she said averting her gaze.

"I don't believe you," he said, grabbing her arm, forcing her to look at him. "I know there is more you are not saying. I can see it in your eyes."

"I swear to you I have not-"

"I am beginning to wonder your true intentions. So, here are your choices. I leave in the morning to finish this militia ghost. Either tell me what you know before then or leave."

"Why are you doing this?" she pleaded. "What have I done to earn such contempt?"

"You have done nothing and for that I must be warry. For all I know you were the one who asked the leader to be at the ball. Why else would you have said nothing about him?"

"I already told you why," she said, her voice growing more confident. "You didn't even believe that I had seen him at all. And even he was an ally, why would I give him away and run in fright?"

"You could have easily gotten cold feet. I have seen it time and again with cowards," he said releasing her. "You have until morning," he said as he made his way to the door. "I suggest you start thinking."

With that he exited the room and went to his quarters. He had his information about the Militia leader, now known as Benjamin Martin thanks to Captain Wilkins, and now the pesky investigation of Miss Kingsley's settlement would be brought to an end. That was how things got handled properly. If you wanted something done, you had to use a little muscle.

The next morning Tavington awoke feeling rested and ready to ride out. Before going out to get his platoon he passed by Miss Kingsley's room to see if she was finally ready to tell him what he needed to know. When he did, he found something he didn't expect. Miss Kingsley was curled up in a fetal position in her reading chair, her eyes wide like a scared rabbit, rocking back and forth muttering incoherent sentences. The doctor was already attending her.

"What's happened to her?" he asked.

"She's gone into shock," the doctor answered curtly.

"From what?"

"She appears to have gone into a relapse of her original traumatic state, but this is worse. It's as if she tried to…" the doctor trailed off for a moment before his features hardened and he turned to Tavington. "You did this," he accused.

"What are you talking about?"

"I warned you this would happen if you pushed her before she was ready, but you couldn't wait, could you?"

"She has had more than enough time to come to terms with this, doctor, and you would do well to remember your status," Tavington retorted. He was not about to let someone of lower class order him around.

"How much time she needed was not for you to determine. She was a severe case that I was this close to solving, but you have gone and ruined what work I have accomplished. She may never come out of this!" he exclaimed, motioning to her.

"We are at war. Casualties are part of war. Soldiers understand this. They are never incapacitated from events such as this."

"She's not a soldier!" he shouted. "She's a woman," he said softer. "A woman who until now has done nothing but help you and defend you, but only God knows why. You are nothing but a self centered butcher whose only care is how far in power he can rise."

"Control yourself, Doctor Sampson. You are out of line."

"No. I am far from it. This was my patient, my decision on how her treatment was to be handled, and you have shown complete disregard for her."

"Your treatment for her was going no where. Sometimes you have to push to get results."

"Those results of yours end up leaving a person scarred and broken. Those results are unacceptable and unreliable at best."

"I am running short on time, doctor. Did she say anything or not?"

"She's in a catatonic state. She _can't_ say anything."

"Very well. I shall return within a week or two. I expect to be informed of any change," Tavington said and marched out.

"Don't expect a report, Colonel," the doctor called out the door.

Tavington stopped and turned. "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. Don't expect a report. I won't stay here and watch you abuse that woman anymore. I will be gone long before you return."

"So, you will just abandon this fort?"

"I have already requested a transfer which has been accepted. I will not watch this torture anymore without doing something about it. My conscience won't allow it."

"But it will allow you to abandon her?" Tavington challenged.

"I'm not the only doctor here. There are others that would be more than happy to poke and prod her for you. I refuse to," he said and went back into the room, shutting the door behind him.

Tavington stood there for the first time not quite knowing what to do. He wanted to say something, do something to convince the doctor otherwise. He was aware that there were other doctors that could treat Sara, but she was hardly familiar with any of them, and if she turned out to be anything like what she started out as, there was no way in hell she would ever let them near her.

What was he thinking? Why did he care all of a sudden who her physician was or what happened to her? He had done this to her and he felt no regret. So why when he rode out with the platoon did the sick feeling in his stomach not go away?

* * *

**AN: Sorry for the long wait. The explanation is in my profile. Anyways, so this story is almost finished. There might be about three more chapters left. I'm not entirely sure yet. As always, let me know what you think.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The sun shone in through the window as pale pink and yellow filled the sky. Her eyes winced against this new light, wishing it would go back to where it had come from, but alas, it would not. Finally forcing her eyes open she looked about the room noticing that she was still in her old room. She thought that surely by now she should have been vacated from the fort. So why was she still here? As her gaze continued around the room she caught sight of Doctor Sampson sitting in her reading chair, his chin to his chest.

"Doctor?" she called.

He woke quickly and with a smile was by her bedside.

"It's good to finally see you awake, Miss Kingsley," he greeted.

"You are allowed to call me Sara," she said.

"I know," he said sheepishly. "Old habit."

"What happened? Why am I still here?"

"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked.

She recognized that tone, the tone of I'm-the-doctor-and-I'm-going-to-treat-you.

"I was in here," she replied. "And then Colonel Tavington came in. He said he was leaving and wanted the information before he left. After that, it's a bit of a blur. I remember screaming, shooting. Nothing is very clear."

"Sara, you had a relapse. You have been in this room for the past week and a half in states of unconsciousness or unresponsiveness. I was worried that…" he trailed off not wanting to finish the thought.

She understood. She reached out and touched his hand. "It's all right, Doctor. As you can see, I'm fine. I just don't think I'll be able to remember that day again. You'd think it would be the opposite but…"

"Well, perhaps it is for the best that you do not," he said with a reassuring smile.

"Thank you, doctor. Did he get my letter?"

"Who? What letter?" he asked.

She sighed. "I wrote everything down for Colonel Tavington so he could get it before he left. I was sure he would come by in the morning. I suppose he was still upset."

"On the contrary," he said, his tone changing, "that egotistical pig came by here before he left. You were already catatonic by then."

"When is he scheduled to return?"

"We got word from his platoon that they were coming back in about five days. They said they were on their way to an old Spanish mission where they knew the Ghost was hiding," he said. "I almost feel sorry for that man. He is supposed to be brought back alive, but knowing the colonel, he'll be lucky if he doesn't 'accidentally' get shot."

"You can't blame the Ghost for doing what he's done. His son was killed. Wouldn't that drive you to do something foolish?"

"I nearly did," he admitted, "when I heard about your settlement. My wife was living there when it happened. I had hoped she was gone when the attack happened, but…"

"I never knew your wife as a friend, but I did know her."

His eyes lit up as she said this. "We would say hello in the street or at the store. She spoke highly of you. It was some time before I made the connection that you were her husband. We had never met, so I did not expect you to know me."

"My wife wrote to every now and then. She mentioned you a few times, said how charming you were and that I should return home to meet you soon. But I was always so busy here treating wounded men. Did you speak to her before…"

She knew what he meant. "The day before. She seemed so excited, said you were finally coming home for a few days."

His eyes welled up with tears. "I had finally gotten the chance to leave. I hadn't seen her in over a year. But I was too late."

"If you had been there, you would have probably been killed with everyone else. Don't look on this as a curse. See it as a gift. You are still alive and able to help others. Look at me. Look at all you've done to help me. Don't you think she would have been proud to see all the good you are still doing?"

He wiped the tears away. "Perhaps you are right."

There was a moment of silence between them, a moment of quiet remembrance as they thought of what had been lost, but what had also been gained.

"There is something I would like your help with, Doctor."

"Yes?"

"It would be best if I was gone before the colonel returns. Would you help me in arranging for my departure?"

"I can't really let you go yet. There's still a chance-"

"No. It is time I left. I'm sure the general will be more that pleased."

"Where will you go? What will you do?"

"I'm not sure, but I can't stay here forever. You and I both know that."

The doctor stood there for a moment considering her words. "There is a regiment that stopped here for supplies. They leave in two days for Charlestown. If you feel able by then, I suppose it could be arranged for you to travel with them."

"Thank you, Doctor," she said.

"You should get some rest now," he said and got up to leave.

"Before you go, Doctor," she said, "would you mind taking Colonel Tavington's letter? I'll be gone by the time he returns. I'm sure he'll still want the information."

Doctor Sampson turned and looked towards her writing desk. Sure enough, there it was, signed and sealed. "Of course I will. As much as I despise that man, he still needs this if something like this is to prevented from reoccurring."

"Thank you, Doctor. For everything," she said with a smile.

He smiled back before shutting the door and leaving her to rest.

* * *

Failure. Tavington could not believe his misfortune. Not only did he fail in bringing back the Ghost, but many of his men were dead including Bordon. The others he could stand to lose, but Bordon was different. Bordon had been his friend, his confidant, the one person he actually had a civil conversation with just because he felt like it. Now he was got and all because of that damn militia, that damn son of that damn Ghost. And to add to it he had come back shot. The day couldn't get any worse. Of that he was sure.

As he rode into the fort to report what had happened and to send a patrol back to the scene he saw…the doctor? With Miss Kingsley?

Both of them were a sight he had not expected to see. From the way the doctor had made it sound, he never expected to see Miss Kingsley out of her room ever again. And the doctor seemed so adamant on leaving Tavington had never expected him to stay.

He watched as the doctor helped Miss Kingsley mount a horse and walk with her to the gate. As she passed him there was a look of concern in her eyes, but it quickly passed and turned into resentment. He knew he deserved that. She continued out the gate and joined with two soldiers before riding off.

"Look at the mess you've gotten yourself into," Doctor Sampson said as Tavington dismounted. "You should have gone straight to medical tent. That wound could be infected," he said as he removed the colonel's jacket.

"It was more important that I come here first. I had to-Ow!" he exclaimed as the doctor touched the wound.

"Whatever it is you needed to report, I'm sure you could have done it from there. This wound is so agitated from that ride."

"Thank you for stating the obvious, Doctor. What are you still doing here? I thought your conscience would not allow you to stay," he questioned.

"My conscience would not. My medical ethics would. I could not leave while a patient needed me. Speaking of which, this is for you," he said and produced a letter from his jacket.

"What is it?"

"Everything you asked of Miss Kingsley," he replied curtly.

"Where is she going anyway?"

"The Twenty Second infantry passed through. She is riding with them down to Charlestown," he answered.

Tavington opened the letter and began to skim over the contents before reading it in more detail.

_August 10, 1780_

_We received new visitors that day. They rode in under a friendly flag asking only for supplies and a place to stay for the night. Our settlement agreed to it. We were not unaccustomed to it, so we never suspected a threat. The next morning when they prepared to leave they assembled their ranks. The commander of the fort saw them to the gate. Then they attacked. The soldiers were killed first, officers first. Then, while the gates were still closed, they turned on the settlers and began to kill them one by one. Then men went first, then the children, then any woman that resisted them. I had been shot during the first volley. As I tried to escape one of them saw me and slashed my side. I never forgot that face. He was their leader, the same man I saw at the ball at Middleton Place. The leader of the demon Twenty Second infantry._

He stopped. "Doctor, who did you say she was riding out with?"

"The Twenty Second. Why?"

Now it dawned on him. They were not after Middleton Place that night. They were after her, the only survivor who could ruin them. And now they were riding off with her.

"Dear God, they'll kill her," he said and pushed the doctor away.

"Colonel, what are you doing? That wound needs to be treated."

"There's no time," he said, grabbing him by his shirt collar. "Find O'Hara or Cornwallis and tell them to detain anyone from the Twenty Second, they are the murderers. Have them issue an emergency dispatch to the surrounding settlements and forts that anyone under that name is to be detained and arrested," he said in a low voice.

"Yes, but, Colonel, where are you-"

"Open the gate," he ordered as he remounted his horse.

The soldiers did as asked without question.

"Wait! Where are you going?" the doctor demanded.

"Someone has to stop them. Now go," he said and urged his horse into a run.

They couldn't have gotten too far ahead. It had only been a few minutes. His side ached at the continued torture, but he forced to the back of his mind. None of that mattered. Sara's life was at stake and at the moment he was all there was. He had gone through hell bringing her back to the fort the first time, being yelled at, shot at and berated by her every day on the tiniest thing. He could not stand that woman, how she understood him. She was almost as bad as Bordon had been. Had been…He was not about to let her become another "had been." He was going to save her. He had to.

It was not long before the three came into view. They stopped and turned, obviously alert to his coming. In an instant, Sara took off heading in a completely different direction with the other two in pursuit. She had figured it out, and they knew it. One of them pulled out a weapon and fired at her. Thankfully they had missed, but Tavington knew they would not be stopped so easily.

He urged more speed from his already exhausted horse. Another shot was fired and Sara's horse went down, sending her tumbling. They were closing in for the kill.

Tavington soon came in range of the man farthest from her and shot him. He fell from his horse and hit the ground with a loud thud. Unlike them, Tavington never missed. The other man had already dismounted and was chasing after Sara on foot, a sword in one hand, pistol in the other.

Tavington slowed his horse and jumped off, drawing his saber and giving chase. The man had Sara pinned next to a tree, his sword ready to cut her down like a wild animal.

Tavington wrapped his arm around the man's neck and grabbed his arm, pulling him away from Sara before running him through. He felt the man gasp for his final breath before twisting his sword and removing it, dropping the man to the ground. Tavington stood over him for a moment, debating whether or not to hack the man into tiny pieces. He gripped the sword in his hand for another moment before driving his sword into the ground and falling to his knees, the pain from his wound and the adrenaline crash he was having finally taking their toll.

After collecting his thoughts he turned his gaze on Sara to see the terrified look in her eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked.

"F-Fine…Fine…I'm fine," she stammered.

There was a moment of awkward silence. He knew she wanted to say something, but was too frightened. The same was true of him.

"Why did you come after me?" she finally asked.

Tavington got to his feet before answering, "They were going to kill you."

"How did you know?"

"I finally got your letter," he replied.

"You could have let me die. You would have finally been rid of me."

"Is that what you think I want?" he exclaimed, "To see you dead, your body mutilated like the others? Why would you even think that?"

"What else am I supposed to think?" she said in the same tone. "You come to my room in the middle of the night demanding information, threatening to throw me out and claiming that I'm a traitor. Am I supposed to believe that means you care about me or anything that happens to me?"

"I never meant to put you in that state. Never in my life have I ever seen a soldier repress a memory like that."

"I'm not-"

"I know you are not a soldier!" he interjected. "I know what you are," he said in a softer tone, kneeling down to her level. "I know you are a woman. A woman who until now has done nothing but shoot at me, berate me for being a harsh man, called me a push over when it comes to General Cornwallis, defended me, for a reason God only knows why, and," he paused trying to find the best words to say. "And you have made me feel, for the first time in my life, truly loved by someone."

She gasped at his words. There was no sarcasm, no hint of a joke. "What?" was all she said in reply.

"I know you more than likely have no such feeling for me, but what you have given me throughout the time you have been here is the closest thing to love I have ever felt," he admitted.

He saw as tears welled in her eyes. "I can say just as much about you. You are a man that is self centered, egotistical, has done just as much berating of my behavior as I have of yours, called me a coward, condemned me as a traitor, by Doctor Sampson's terms, nearly killed me, and saved my life in more ways than one."

He looked at her with just as much surprise as she had.

"You made me feel just as loved as any person could feel, even though you are the cruelest man I have ever met."

Without another word he pulled her close to him and kissed her. She pulled away and slapped his chest.

"What was that for?" he asked, bewildered.

"That was for taking so long," she answered and pulled him in for another kiss, this time deeper. He pulled her closer to him, wrapping her in a warm embrace. Her fingers entwined themselves in his hair as his wandered up and down her body. Her hands began to move across his body and managed to find his wound which, up until then, he had forgotten about. He winced at her touch and pulled away. She looked down to his wound and a look of remembrance crossed her face.

"Oh God, William, you're bleeding," she said.

"It's just a scratch," he tried to assure her.

"We need to get you back to the doctor. This could be serious."

"I have survived worse."

"William, do not argue. We have to get back," she said and forced him up.

"It certainly is different hearing you say that," he commented.

"Say what?"

"You called me by my first name."

She blushed. "It just slipped out. I did not mean to," she said shyly.

"No. I like it. It sounds pleasant coming from you," he said as he moved a stray hair from her face.

"Surely when Bordon says your name it is not too awful," she teased.

Bordon…

His face fell despite his efforts to hide it.

"William, what is it?"

"Bordon will never say my name again," he admitted. He saw that she understood what he meant. She brought him close and wrapped her arms around him gently, minding his injury. He returned her embrace forcing back several tears that had threatened to come. That was the only weakness he refused to let her see.

"I think you were right, Sara. Doctor Sampson is going to give me hell if we do not return soon," he said breaking the hug.

She nodded as she wiped away several tears. It took several minutes for Tavington to round up the horses and bring them back. When he did he helped her mount and led them back to the fort at a slow walk to avoid any more agitation to his injury.

When they finally arrived Tavington pushed past O'Hara, who was demanding a proper explanation, and went straight to the doctor with Sara in tow.

"Tavington, what the hell did you think you were doing just rushing off like that? You could have been killed or worse," Doctor Sampson exclaimed as the two walked in.

"Doctor, do not be so cross with him. He was only trying to save me," Sara said.

"After what he did, I have a right to be cross with him. And what is wrong with you? You have a strange look in your eye. It is as if you…" He trailed off as he eyed them both, trying to understand what was going on.

"Speak man. Do not keep us waiting in anticipation," Tavington demanded.

"If I did not know better, I would say you two were…" His eyes went wide as the realization hit him.

"No. You cannot be serious. You and he…He and you…This…This goes against all that is natural in the world," he stammered.

"Doctor, calm down and speak. You are making no sense," Sara said.

"You fell in love with him!" the doctor exclaimed in disbelief. "And you with her! What is this world coming to?"

"Yes, well, it was not quite that simple. It just…happened," Sara said as if lacking a better explanation.

"Sara, it is time for you to leave. I must treat the colonel. I shall let you know when you may come back," the doctor ordered.

She smiled at Tavington before hesitantly leaving the tent.

"What the hell gives you the right to pursue her?" the doctor demanded as he helped Tavington remove his shirt.

"She is an adult capable of making her own choices. Are you going to berate her as well?"

"I know what it is you make her believe you are. You put on this façade of a man who cares about what happens to her when you save her, but I know what you really are. As soon as she has fulfilled your desires you will simply cast her aside like some common wench. I will not allow you to hurt her further."

"For your information, Doctor," Tavington spat, "she is not naïve. She has admitted on more than one occasion what she thinks of me. She is not a child that demands your protection."

"In this case I would have to disagree with you, Colonel. She is a woman who cannot help but find some sort of attraction in charismatic men such as you."

"You do not do that woman justice. She is more than capable of fending off charismatic men. She did not make her decision based on the fact that I rescued her. To get that answer you will have to ask her yourself, for I myself am at a loss as to her reasons," he stated.

"Then what may I ask are your reasons, Colonel?" he huffed as he began to stitch the wound.

"What would be the point? You would not hear them. You have made your decision."

"Indulge me for a moment," the doctor persisted.

"You and I are both aware that she is not a common woman even for one who has learned to live in this harsh environment. I know I have been a fool in this matter. For her to have faced the event of her past and moved on is an accomplishment in itself that any other woman would have shied away from. She actually has an opinion that truly matters in a conversation. She has never shied from an argument with me, and I highly doubt she will begin now. She is unlike any woman I have ever known," he said. Tavington was unsure if this information would sate the doctor's curiosity, but it was all he could think of, all he could say.

"Is that all then?" Doctor Sampson said as he finished the suture.

"Forgive me if that does satisfy you, Doctor," Tavington snapped, "but that is all I have to say to you."

The doctor stood up and threw Tavington's shirt to him.

"There is little I can do by arguing with you and chastising you. I am sure she will give me an answer similar to yours. I will not fight your decision," he conceded. "However, one false step on your part, and I will be left no choice but to come after you with every fiber of my being. Do I make myself clear?"

Tavington stared him down for a moment, judging the seriousness of his statement. The doctor's gaze was firm, conveying that he meant what he said and would carry out his threat if need be.

"Crystal clear," Tavington answered and put his shirt back on. "You must know, my intentions are strictly honorable. I would not consider hurting her."

"Life is not always so kind, Colonel. What we intend and what happens are two very different things, and too often, what happens contradicts what we intend."

* * *

**AN: Yay for another chapter in a fairly reasonable amount of time! Expect more updates to this one and the others since Thursday is my last day of school and I shall have ample amounts of writing time. Thanks to all of you have read and written reviews. You guys are awesome and your comments most welcome. They definitely provide alot of encouragement. Only TWO chapters left and this story will be finished. Unless they get really long and I have to break them up which I highly doubt will happen.**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: WARNING! There is some mild sensuality in this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Tavington sat in his room that evening going over papers and strategies for the next morning's battle. Cowpens would be the turning point for the south. As long as Cornwallis brought home a victory, which he always did, with the colonel's help, of course, they would finally move north and crush the remnants of the militia and rebellious colonials. Then he would finally be able to settle down for awhile and have some time with Sara.

As he went through his correspondence, which had somehow managed to pile up while he was away chasing the ghost, he heard someone enter the room and shut the door. He stood and turned to face his unexpected visitor to find Sara standing in the doorway, a solemn look on her face.

"Sara?" he said, surprised to see her at such a time in the evening.

She said nothing as she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his chest. He put his arms around her and held her close. "Sara, what is the matter? Has something happened?" he asked when she remained silent.

"Must you go tomorrow?" she asked softly, her voice muffled by his clothing.

"Sara," he said, pulling her away to look her in the eye, "you know I must. It is my duty. This battle could help insure a swift end to this war, and then you and I can finally have some peace and quiet."

She hugged him tighter before saying, "I don't want you to go."

"What is all this about? You never had any objections to my leaving before. Surely something could not have arisen even after today that would change your mind so suddenly."

"I have this terrible feeling, William. My stomach keeps twisting and turning telling me something terrible is about to happen. I know I have felt this just before my home was destroyed," she explained as her voice began to quiver.

He held her tightly stroking her back in a soothing motion. "I cannot ignore my responsibility because you have a feeling, but," he said bringing her face to meet his gaze, "I can promise you that I will come back. No matter the outcome of this next battle, I will come back to you. I swear."

She looked into his ice blue eyes, searching for a hint of truth to his words. He put one hand to her cheek and brought her in for a kiss. It was short and sweet but proved he meant what he had said, that he would come back.

"William," she said, her hands moving across his chest, eyes pleading, "be with me tonight."

"Sara, for us to do such a thing would be-"

"I know, William," she interrupted, "I know what I am asking. I do not know what will happen beyond tomorrow, but I refuse to face the future with regrets. I love you, William. I trust you."

Her gaze had grown firm. She knew what she wanted and she was willing to do so even though it was improper and would no doubt only bring shame upon her. That was what held her spark, her charm. No fear of being different, of speaking her mind. It reminded him of himself. He smiled at her and kissed her lips softly. "Then stay," he whispered.

She pulled herself closer to him and brought his lips to her more fervently, her fingers snaking through his hair. His hands moved up and down her body exploring every curve of her small frame. She pulled away from him and pulled off his coat and untied his cravat, tossing both to the floor. He pulled her back in for another kiss as his hands found the laces of her dress and began to loosen them.

Her hands moved across his body exploring every muscular inch as she removed his shirt and discarded it. As he finished the last of the lacing of her dress he pushed it off her shoulders and stared at her now bare breasts before him.

He pulled her to the bed and sat her on his lap as his hands went to her breasts, feeling their warmth under his touch as she kissed him. His lips made their way down her neck until they reached the soft flesh of her bosom and began to kiss and nibble them. She moaned at his touch as she held him close to her.

He pushed the rest of her dress off her hips and let it fall gently to the floor. He stared at her now exposed body, a feeling of ecstasy and desire welling up inside of him, desire to make her his and let no other man even think of coming near her again.

Her hands made their way down to his trousers and undid them letting them join the rest of the clothes in pile on the floor.

He pulled her back to him in a soft kiss and lifted her up, carrying her to the bed and laying her down. Tavington hovered over her kissing her, feeling her body, memorizing every inch, every gentle curve. His tongue pressed against her lips begging for entrance which she granted and began to explore further. Her tongue mingled with his, tasting, fighting for dominance in an intricate dance.

He pulled away and looked in to her eyes.

"I love you, Sara," he whispered as he positioned himself over her entrance.

"I love you, William."

* * *

The sun had barely begun to rise when Tavington awoke to the sounds of movement in halls and outside. He looked down at Sara who had cuddled up beside him in the night, his arm wrapped around her waist, sleeping soundly. He leaned in and kissed her cheek whispering, "I love you."

He crept out of bed quietly being careful not to wake her and quickly put on his uniform and pulled his hair back into a plait braid, wrapping it in its forest green ribbon. He looked himself over carefully making sure he had not missed a single detail. Satisfied by what he saw, he grabbed his helmet and quietly made his way back to the still slumbering beauty in his bed.

He knelt down and kissed her forehead, moving a stray strand of hair from her face. He only wished he could stay to see her wake at sunrise, but alas he was to be on the battle field before gave her one last glance before quietly making his way to the door and shut it behind him.

He went to the gate and called for his horse to be brought to him. As he waited, Dr. Sampson called to him.

"Colonel," he said.

"Yes, Doctor, what is it now?"

"I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I may have been too brash and ask that we may put this whole affair behind us," he said and offered his hand.

Tavington eyed it warily.

"I spoke with Miss Kingsley last night. I am convinced that there is nothing further that can be done to dissuade either of you from pursuing this course of action. I admit that I may have been wrong on this matter ask your forgiveness," he explained.

Tavington could see the sincerity in his eyes and took the man's hand. "I do hope this means we can be…more agreeable in the future, Doctor Sampson."

"Is it truly that hard to say 'friend'?"

"Very well then, friend," Tavington said, grasping the man's arm. He turned away and mounted his waiting horse.

"Good luck to you, Colonel."

"Keep her safe for me," Tavington said and rode out of the fort.

* * *

The sun finally began to shine through the window, waking Sara from her peaceful sleep. She sat up and looked about her to notice that Tavington was already gone. She frowned, wishing she could have been able to say good bye to her lover but knew she would never get that chance.

Realizing that one of the servants would no doubt soon be there to make his bed, Sara quickly found her clothes and began to dress herself. As she was finishing her laces a knock came at the door swiftly followed by the Doctor Sampson barging in looking rather flustered.

"Miss Kingsley where-" he began as he caught sight of her. "What in God's name are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Doctor, this is not the best place to discuss this," she said nervously, wishing that he would get his tirade over with quickly before they were caught.

"I should say so. What the devil were you thinking? You and he were…You are an unmarried woman! Have you any idea how this looks for either of you, if you had been caught? You'll be looked on as a common wench! For God's sake, Sara, what were you thinking?"

"What I was thinking is none of your concern. I am a grown woman, and you are not my father," she said sternly and pushed past him to exit the room.

"Sara," he said, following close behind, "this is not the behavior of a woman of your stature. You are better than this. What could have possibly possessed you to even consider doing such a thing?"

"Doctor," she said, turning to face him, "if you could have one last night with your wife, wouldn't you have taken it, spent every last moment with her that you could?"

He paused for a moment, a look of grief passing over his features before he answered, "I would, but that is still no reason to have done such a thing as this. He will return this afternoon, and you will feel like such a foolish schoolgirl having gotten yourself worked up for nothing."

"You don't understand, Doctor. Something terrible is going to happen today. I can feel it in my bones the way I felt it before my home was destroyed. I ignored it then, but I refuse to ignore it now. I love him, and I would do anything to show him that."

"So, this was just to prove something to him?"

"No," she said as she raked her fingers through her hair, frustration lacing her voice. "Whatever happens today, whether he lives or dies, I wanted to have no regrets. I have let so many things pass me by in life. This was not about to join the list of should-haves. Now, if you will excuse me, there is somewhere I should be," she said and walked away.

"And where might that be?"

"Out there," she declared.

"What?" Sampson exclaimed. "Have you lost your sanity all together?"

"You may join me if you wish, but you shall not stop me."

"Sara," he said, taking her by the shoulders, "this is a battle field we are talking about. The guards will not just simply let you out the gate. You are a civilian."

"Yes," she admitted, her brow furrowing in thought, "and you are a doctor. They would let you out. You could say I was going to assist you."

"Sara, I cannot condone this. You are talking about lying to the guard to go see what? If he is in battle, there is little you can do. I'm sure he will be fine. The Dragoons are only called in as a final attack, a way to seal the victory for Cornwallis. Tavington will not go out without an order," he reasoned.

"Yes, under normal circumstances, he would not. But Bordon is dead and at the hand of that Ghost fellow. There is no doubt that militia will be apart of the battle and if that Ghost is there, Tavington will not hesitate to get his revenge. Of that I am most certain."

The doctor stepped back with a huff and considered what she had said. Sara stood there waiting for him to say something, but he just stood there. She knew that there was a chance that she could be wrong and just be going on a fool's errand, but if she was right, she owed it to Tavington to try saving him.

Doctor Sampson finally let out a defeated sigh and said, "If we are going to attempt this, we must leave sooner than later."

She smiled at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Doctor. You are a wonderful friend."

Before too long they both were saddled and ready to leave the gate. The guard had eyed them warily as the doctor told him why they had to depart, but he let them through without a fuss. He more than likely assumed that it was not worth the trouble to stop them if they were going to get themselves killed.

After riding several miles out, it was not hard to guess where the battle was. Gun shots, canons firing, men shouting, and horses screeching in the distance was a dead giveaway. They stopped short at the top of the ridge just behind the British lines and surveyed the carnage below.

"Are you satisfied now, Sara?"

"No. Where are the Dragoons? I don't see them on the field," she noted.

"The only strategic point I see is down there at that tree line," he pointed out.

"We have to hurry. I must speak to him, make sure he does not do something rash," she said and urged her horse forward toward the area that the doctor had pointed to. They cut around the trees so as not to be spotted by the other soldiers. As they came around, the back of the line of Dragoons could be seen not far away. Sara urged her horse forward, trying to reach him, but before she could she heard the command for charge, and the Dragoons raced out to the field. She hurried forward, hoping to stop Tavington, but it was too late.

"What is he doing? There was no order to charge," the doctor said as he rode up beside her.

"I told you this would happen. He must have seen something out there," she said, dismounting.

"What are you doing?"

"Look here," she said, holding up a telescope. He dismounted and joined her. "This is William's telescope. He wouldn't have just thrown this unless something went wrong. He saw something out there. It must be that militia leader," she said.

"Sara, I know you want to help him, but there is nothing you or I can do now. We should get out of here," he urged.

"Very well, Doctor," she said and turned toward her horse. He did the same and as he was preparing to mount, she struck him over the head with the telescope sending him to the ground. After checking to make sure he was not seriously injured she said, "I'm sorry, Doctor. I could not put you in danger, but I cannot leave him."

Looking through the scope, she quickly located Tavington who was in the thick of battle. Abandoning all sense, she mounted her horse and charged into the fray, praying that she could save him from what was sure to be a disaster. As she neared him she watched him as he charged at a man, sword poised to cut him down. The next instant he was flying over his horse, and the other man was loading a pistol.

She urged her horse faster, coming within feet of him before her horse fell from a stray shot. She hurried to her feet, pushing past men as she yelled his name. They both turned at her voice, terror and shock on Tavington's face. The other man turned back, ready to deliver the shot when an explosion went off in the distance causing him to lurch, his aim now skewed. Sara rushed forward, her body slamming against Tavington as a sharp pain went through her body. She could feel the blood run down her back as she stared up into William's eyes, horror written on his features. Her legs gave way as he held her, lowering her gently to the ground.

"Sara, oh God, Sara," he exclaimed as one glove hand made its way to her face, "what were you thinking? God no."

* * *

He watched as she ran for him, his heartbeat hollow in his ears at the thought of her watching him die. She had been right. Damn the womanly intuition. He turned back to Martin who aimed once more and fired. An explosion from a canon ball went off several feet away causing the colonial's shot to veer off course.

Sara collided with him, her eyes wide with fear as her face began to pale. He looked down on her and noticed the blood that began to cover her back. He wrapped his arms around her, lowering her carefully to the ground, his voice momentarily caught in his throat.

"Sara, oh God, Sara, what were you thinking?" he said as he put one hand to her face. "God no."

She looked past him and looked back. "Look out," she murmured weakly.

Tavington looked up in time to see Martin rushing at him with a tomahawk. Tavington brought up his sword in defense and lashed out. In an angry frenzy he went at the man, slashing and lunging trying desperately to hit the man. Because of him Bordon was dead, and now Sara would join him. His last shred of goodness in life was dying on the bloodstained battlefield.

Martin lashed back, making every hit count. As he brought down his tomahawk, Tavington blocked and took the opportunity to punch the man in the jaw before delivering a slash to his arm, causing him to drop his pistol. With the man momentarily disoriented, Tavington reached down and removed the bayonet from a fallen soldier's rifle. Martin came back at him, tomahawk in one hand, a knife in the other which he pull from a sheath on his person.

The fight continued with a renewed ferocity, each man trying to land a fatal blow while the other blocked each attempt. With slashes and head butts shared between the two, Tavington was beginning to wonder if he would ever give up, or at least let his guard down long enough. He was sure Martin was thinking the same thing.

As they raged on, Tavington managed to land a blow to his leg. From there Martin lost his momentum and Tavington was able to knock the tomahawk from his hands, sending it flying in to the dust. He made a feeble attempt at using a rifle for protection, but with a slash to his back, Martin was on his knees watching as the rebels pushed forward to their abominable victory.

Tavington stared down at the defenseless man, ready to end his life. "Kill me before the war is over will you?" he spat. "You killed my only friend and now you kill my only family. It would appear you are not the better man, colonial scum," he said and poised himself to take the man's head.

His blade cut through the air, thirsty for the man's blood. As it neared his neck, Martin rolled away and plunged the bayonet through Tavington's torso. Martin stood and faced him.

"You're right," he said, grabbing the bayonet Tavington had dropped only moments before, "My sons were better men."

He then took the bayonet and drove it through Tavington, his eyes wide with pain and fear. He was going to die. There was no stopping it, no denying it. He had failed, failed to stop the colonials, failed to save Bordon, failed to protect Sara, failed to avenge them. He was left propped up by the rifle as he tried to catch one final glimpse of Sara before black covered his vision and he exhaled one last time.

* * *

**AN: One more chapter after this. Thanks to all those who have read and reviewed. You guys rock! And I apologize for the chapter heading not being where it's supposed to be. For whatever reason, it kept setting it to the left. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

The heart monitor blared as it flat lined sending alarms throughout the hospital. Nurses and doctors rushed in, defibrillator charging as they began to perform CPR. Jason stared on in horror as the medical staff took the paddles and applied them to his wife's chest.

"Clear!" one of the nurses shouted.

Her body jolted with the current before lying still again, the monitor showing no signs of change. They continued CPR as they recharged the paddles.

"Sara," he called to her, "Sara, please, come back!"

"Clear!"

Again they applied the paddles to her chest. No change. He tried to push past the doctors and nurses to get to her, but it was no use. Several strong men had already been called in to restrain him, but he fought against them anyway, clawing at them and screaming her name.

"Sara!"

They applied the paddles for a fourth time, tension hanging in the air as each one of them hoped that it would do the trick. The paddles buzzed as her body convulsed one last time. Monitors blared to life as her heart jump started beating nearly twice as fast than normal. Her eyes shot open as she sat up from the bed, her breathing ragged. Jason pushed past the doctors and nurses to his wife's side, embracing her tightly in his arms.

She struggled against him for a moments mumbling, "William…William."

"No, Sara," he said, pulling away to look her in the eye, "it's me, Jason. It's all right." He stroked her distraught face, doing his best to calm her.

"What…Where am I? What's going on?" she questioned, her eyes darting about the room.

"Sweety," he said gently, "you're in the hospital. You've been in here for over a month in a coma."

She looked at him in confusion, his words not quite seeming to compute.

"A month? How? How did it happen?" she asked.

After finally calming her down and explaining all that had happened over the past month, Jason had been ordered to let her rest and recuperate before she was allowed to have visitors again. Jason quickly returned the next morning not wanting to waste a moment. She was finally back from what had seemed to be her death. He was not going to let this pass by.

As he entered the room, she looked up and smiled warmly at him.

"Hey," he greeted as he smiled back. "How are you feeling?"

"A lot better now," she answered as he sat down on the bedside and kissed her forehead. "What are you doing here, Jason? You were supposed to be in boot camp a long time ago," she asked.

He took her hand in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb. "I never went," he said, looking in to her eyes.

"What? What do you mean? You can't just simply not go. The army doesn't work like that," she reasoned.

"You're not gonna like this. I never actually joined," he admitted, looking down at his feet.

"I don't understand, Jason. Why would you lie about something like that?"

He stood and walked over to the window, unsure of whether or not he was prepared for her reaction.

"I planned on it, but…I couldn't do it. Not behind your back at least. I only brought it up that night because…I guess because I thought if there was no way out, you would reconsider. If I had known that it would have caused this…" He trailed off as he turned to look at her again.

She didn't look angry the way he had thought she would. She looked almost sympathetic. At least, that's what he hoped it was.

"Jason," she said, motioning for him to come back to the bed. He did so, sitting back down. "You were right when you said I overreacted. This wasn't your fault. I should have been paying attention to the road. I let myself get distracted. If I had kept my temper in check, I wouldn't have left and I would have been able to see the other car turn in to my lane." She reached and touched his cheek, brushing away several stray tears.

"I'm so sorry, Sara. I love you so much," he saud and kissed her tenderly.

"I love you, too, Jason," she said as she rested her forehead against his and smiled.

They finally broke away preferring not to have a doctor walk in on them. He knew there would be more time when they got home.

"So, what was it like?" he asked, trying to change subjects.

"What was what like?" she questioned.

"When you were in the coma," he clarified. "What was it like? Did you feel anything? See anything?"

"It was…it was like a dream, but at times it felt so real. I saw myself in the dream, but I wasn't me. I was just watching, watching as I lived such a different life," she said.

"And William was part of the dream was he?" he asked.

"William? How did you know that?"

"You called me William when you woke up. I was worried for a minute that you…"

"No, no, it's nothing like that," she said quickly. "I swear you look so much like him, though. He had longer hair than you, but you two definitely look a lot alike."

"What? Did you dream I had a mullet or something?" Jason teased.

"No. It was 1700s, the end of the Revolution. William was a soldier, a dragoon in the British army. I had been hurt, and he rescued me, took me back to his fort. He was so cruel, Jason. He looked like you, but he certainly wasn't you," she explained.

"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Jason questioned, feelings of anger rising up. Dream or not, she was still his wife. No one hurt his wife.

"No, nothing like that. He was ruthless in battle, charged in against orders, always tried to gain victory, honorable or otherwise. But even though he was so cruel, there was something else to him. He never really showed it to others, but he had a kindness to him. It was like he thought the only way to get respect was to make the world fear him. But, just on occasion, I saw his kindness. He saved my life more than once, and I found myself…" she trailed off, obviously not wanting to reveal what her thoughts were.

"What is it?" Jason persisted.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I think I fell in love with him in that dream. It was so strange. I found him so despicable, and yet, I still kissed him anyway," she said as her thoughts seemed to wander, her gaze wandering away with them.

"You kissed him? You make him sound so inhuman, and yet you kissed him? I didn't know you liked guys like that."

"You know, his nickname was The Butcher. That should have been a bit of a turn off, but I still…I saw something in him, something human. Butcher or not, there was something else to him."

"The Butcher, you say? That sounds familiar. I know I've heard that somewhere before. I can't figure where, but I know I have."

"It doesn't really matter now. It was all just a dream. And I'm definitely happy about that," she said with a sigh of relief.

"Why is that? Was he a bad kisser?" he teased.

"No," she smiled. "He wasn't. He died at the end, trying to avenge me. I was stupid and ran out on to the battlefield, got myself shot trying to protect him. When I died there, I woke up here."

"Really? Because, you died here for a few seconds just before you woke up. Your heart stopped," Jason explained.

"How strange," she said, her gaze wandering with her thoughts again. She quickly put it behind her and looked back to Jason. "Let's not talk about this anymore. The important thing is that we're together again," she said, taking his hand in hers.

He stroked the back of her palm and kissed it. "You're right. And I promise never to do something that stupid again," he said.

"Jason, if you really want to join, I won't stop you. I just don't want you to do it because you feel you have to live up to some family expectation. Is this something you really want to do?"

He looked away for a moment, thinking of how best to answer her. "I thought it was. But it seemed that the more we fought on it, the more I wanted it. Now, I don't even know why I wanted to anymore."

She smiled at him and stroked his cheek. "And they say women are fickle. If you do change your mind again, I will support you all the way. What you want from life is just as important as what I do."

He smiled at her and kissed her again. He had missed this the entire time she had been in that coma. Her warmth, her love, her touch was what he lived for. He wasn't sure whether or not he would try to join the army again, but he was sure that next time he was going to be honest with her. After all she had ever done for him, this was the least he could do for her. She was his world, and nothing was ever going to come between them again.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Several days later, Sara was released from the hospital and finally allowed to go home. She was so excited she was practically bouncing out the door. The next several weeks at home had gone by much smoother than that night she had stormed out. Jason was helping around the house more, even cooking dinner more often. Though, he had done exactly as she had predicted. The first night he tried to cook a steak dinner for her he left a towel too close to the grill and it had caught on fire which nearly caught the entire porch. Luckily, Sara had been there ready with the fire extinguisher and a reluctant smile at her husband's attempts of being manly.

One afternoon while she was reading on the couch, Jason had called her to his office. She wasn't sure what he wanted since he was supposed to be working on a big project for the company he worked at and didn't want to be disturbed all day.

"What is it, honey?" she asked as she stood behind his desk chair.

"I found out something that you might find interesting," he said, turning around to face her.

"And what would that be? I doubt it has anything to do with your work, which you are supposed to be working very hard on," she said with a cocked brow.

"It only took a minute, and it was worth the few minute's distraction. You remember you dream lover, The Butcher?" he asked.

"What about him? Did you find him or something? Was he a real person?" she questioned.

"Yes, and you're never going to guess where I found him."

"The internet?" she replied sarcastically.

"Well, yes, but I mean the rest of it."

"Ok, I'll bite. What did you find out?"

You remember I told you he sounded familiar?" he said.

"Yeah," she answered.

"That's because I had heard my great grandmother talking about him. He was a grandfather of mine way back during the Revolution like you said. He died unmarried during the Battle of Cowpens towards the end of the war," he explained.

"Wait, if he died unmarried, how exactly is he your grandfather?" she questioned, a nervous feeling knotting up in her stomach.

"It's not really definite, but there were rumors that he was courting a woman in the fort. They were never engaged, but the gossip of the time was that they were more intimate than what was considered proper for the time. They were supposed to be quite the scandal," he said with a grin.

"There wouldn't happen to have been a name to go with that woman, would there?"

"Her name was Tara Kingsly. Her settlement had been attacked, and she was staying at the fort with Tavington until the investigation was complete. About eight months after the battle, she gave birth to a son and named him William. Pretty big coincidence, if you ask me," Jason finished as he leaned back in his chair with satisfaction.

"Was there ever a picture of him?" Sara asked, the nervous feeling in her stomach growing worse.

"Yeah, there was a portrait taken of him early in his military career. Here it is," he said and pulled up a picture of the colonel on his computer.

She stared at what seemed to be the spitting image of her husband. "Wow…he looks just like the man I saw in my dreams. He looks like you, Jason."

She couldn't believe what she had seen. At first she had simply reasoned that she was dreaming of her husband the way he wished he could have been in the military. Now she was beginning to think that she had watched history being made. Sure, she had imagined it as herself in the dream, and the fact that she had died on the field instead of Tara living on to carry William's child, but still, she couldn't believe what she was hearing and seeing. This definitely made everything more interesting. Much more interesting.

* * *

**AN: The end is finally here. Thank you to all those that have been here from the beginning reading and leaving reviews. I hope you all enjoyed the story and hope that you'll enjoy some of the others I have posted here. If not, it was great while it lasted. I want to send a special thank you to my friend Kevin who without his help this chapter would not have gotten finished. Thanks again everyone. it's been a blast!**


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